The evolution of our western society continues apace. This, I feel, is an act of extreme rudeness, since in doing so, it is leaving this particular old curmudgeon behind. What's more, as a lifelong non-smoker, I don't even have the luxury of enjoying the aroma of burning pipe tobacco as the world encircles me in an increasingly frenetic blur. Indeed, my only consolation is that so much that fills the airwaves and the internet ether - and I am choosing my words carefully for a change - is entirely meaningless or at least inconsequential to the point of making me want to remove my own spleen and throw it at the computer screen in frustration.

The latest example of this (and which has spurred me to comment today) is the unbelievable fuss and attention being lavished upon a certain celebrity couple's divorce. I doubt that you will need any more information to know what I'm talking about -- unless, of course, you've freshly emerged from spending a few days underneath a large rock somewhere in the remotest part of Norway. If you are in that situation, then you should thank me for not going any further on the details.

The headline I saw today began with 'Everything you need to know about...'. This immediately made me wonder just how much I needed to know on the subject. I came up with an answer within a nanosecond: zero. I then asked myself just how much I wanted to know on the subject. The internal response was the same. I am, then, at a disadvantage here, because I struggle to understand why anyone would want to know about such things, let alone actually feel that they needed more details. Yet this is the kind of useless, pointless fluff which seems to fill the internet news pages these days - and what a stark comment this is upon the avaricious appetite of the public when it comes to peering into the lives of people they envy.

The fact that two famous people have had enough of one another is a news item only because their pairing-up some years ago was an equally dismal headline event. That, I think, is where it should end, but symptomatically, the media delving seems to be continuing, and I find myself dodging stories which have my spleen ducking for cover behind my ribs (it knows, you see).

I think that there is an answer; there is a way to deal with the urge to find out about - and thoroughly revel in - all the details of famous people's private lives:

Get a life.

Really: get a life.

Go away now, and get a fucking life.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I must leave the computer to go and get my regular copy of 'Hello!' magazine...